


The Reputation of Professor Kirkland

by TheresAlotYouDontKnowAboutMe



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, F/M, Forced Incest, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Orgasm Delay, Punishment, Teacher-Student Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, magical compulsion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheresAlotYouDontKnowAboutMe/pseuds/TheresAlotYouDontKnowAboutMe
Summary: When a demon turns 20, they are assessed, and, if their ability is above a certian threshold, they are sent to be taught by older and more powerful demons at an elite institution.There is a new class of students and the second most powerful demon teaching, Professor Arthur Kirkland, will have to teach them-- the hard way-- about how true his reputation regarding punishment is.... If the one angel they accidentally hired doesn't get in the way too much...(Mostly porn, with very minimal plot.)
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), England/Prussia (Hetalia), North Italy/South Italy (Hetalia)
Kudos: 29





	1. Amelia F. Jones

I-- Amelia F. Jones. Demon. First-year. 20. 

Profesor Kirkland felt the breeze of the open window while leaning against his desk, watched it lift and toss the hem of Amy's skirt, and raised an eyebrow. She hadn't bothered to follow his gaze down, and when he looked back into her sky blue eyes they were still defiant. 

"You've been late every day," he sighed. "Do you realize that?" 

"Obvi." She had her arms crossed under her chest, raising her cleavage up so it was more visible under her half unbuttoned shirt. 

"It seems I can't force you to be early." Arthur tilted his head, becoming rather severe— a reputation he had— and clicked his tongue. "You'll just have to be punished then." 

Amy knew about his reputation, of course, but if it had done anything to intimidate her, she didn't show it. "Do your best, old man." 

"Old man? That is simply disrespectful." Kirkland straightened up to his full height, bolstered by his full set of curling horns— unlike Amy's small, undeveloped spiral horns, due to her youth-- and was across the room faster than she could flinch. With one hand, he seized a fistful of her curls, and the other he pressed flat to her lower back, turning them so she faced the desk. Again, in an instant, he moved them so she was against the desk, kicking her legs apart with one of his as she was suitably off-balance from the suddenness of it all.

Only then did she have the time to gasp, her pretty eyes going wide. Kirkland always liked that look of surprise: when his students underestimated him. 

He pulled her head back, baring her throat. And then, in a purely egotistical show of power, he leaned down and licked the skin there, feeling her trembling breath under his warm tongue. 

"Th-the rumors--" she began. 

He pulled her hair harder, biting down on her throat so that she was cut off with a sharp-- "Ah!" 

"Yes, my dear," he said in his sternest voice. "And you have spurned my leniency." 

The hand in her hair was near one of her sharp little horns, mostly hidden in her mess of curls. He idely thumbed over the bone-like twist. "Now you are going to call me something more respectful." 

"Daddy?" she managed, tone still one of light mockery for how she ground the words out, head forced back like that. 

Kirkland licked his lips. "Yes. I like that." It was not the answer she was anticipating, clearly. "Say it again." 

"Uh... Daddy?" 

He bit down on her throat. "Good girl." He moved the hand from her lower back, pressing her instead up against the ridge of the desk she had braced her hands on. Bent like this, her lace bra was visible, shirt pulled down where it was half tucked into her skirt. Kirkland unhooked the front of the bra in one smooth motion, the fabric springing apart under the weight of her chest to either side. Again, he heard her gasp. 

"Apologize to your daddy," he said, undoing the remaining four buttons down her stomach to the waist-line of the skirt. 

"For, uh, being late?" 

Kirkland ran a nail down from the hollow of her throat to the lace peeking out of that skirt, which didn't match the bra. "Yes, clearly. For being late, your grades aren't dismal, show some sense." 

"Oh." In the time she apparently needed to think over how to apologize, Kirkland shifted his body so that he could press a thigh between her legs. " _Oh_ , uh... Nah, tho." 

For a moment, Kirkland was still. It may have been a good thing she couldn't currently see his face. Them he pulled her upright by her hair, so she was eye to eye with him. "No?" 

She winced, but still managed a half shrug, her shirt falling down around that shoulder, her nipples visible. "I'm not, like, sorry about it." And then, that infuriating mega-watt smile she liked to flash. "I don't wanna be a liar." 

Kirkland, he had to admit, almost wasn't angry about that response. _She's making a fine demon, that much is sure._ But there wasn't going to be any sign of weakness in his classroom on his part. 

"Punishment it is." He stepped the leg between her thighs back, leaving her off balance a moment to twist her around and slam her onto the desk, the hand on her head forcing her cheek against the dark wood. Like this, her ass was raised slightly, and Kirkland flipped up her skirt. 

"Does this count as a detention, daddy?" she teased, a bit muffled. 

Kirkland ignored her, curling a finger around her panties, snapping them against her warm clit. Her body jumped, despite itself. "Ah!" Smirking, he went ahead and pulled her underwear off completely, tearing the lace off her body. 

"Wait, daddy, did you just _tear_ my--" 

He spanked her. She yelped, more suprised than anything. "You're not such a good girl, after all." He told her, spanking her again, harder. "Two minutes." 

" _What_?! That's too long! Prof--" 

He spanked her again, this time pressing a finger tip to her opening for a half a second. "You established your rule at the begining. Call me daddy. Or it will be five minutes." 

" _Daddy_!" 

Kirkland smiled to himself, and then he set up a neat rhytem. He would spank her, and then he would finger her bit by bit. Each time she was hit, her light brown skin glowing red under his hand, she was then also entered. After a minute of this, he had reached the base of one finger. And she was whining. 

"Ow! Ow! Daddy! _That's enough!_ I get it!" 

Kirkland supposed that worked on some of the other students, her cute act, but he wasn't so easily appealed to. "A good girl would shut up and take her punishment, or That will be my next order of buissness." 

They entered the second minute. He hit her ass a little harder, listening to her whimper, and then added a second finger. He spanked her like this until his fingers reached the knuckle, and the two minutes of beating were up. Not that she ever did shut up. It was like she was flipping through appeals below him, trying to see which one would work without her having to actaully apologize. 

"Daddy, I'm going to bruise!" Or "Daddy, I'll be a better student if you stop!" And once "Harder, daddy?" That last one really didn't work the way she might have hoped. He could certiantly go harder. 

Now, panting below him, his fingers still inside of her, she gave him a look that seemed to have lost much of her attempts at pathos, those blue-blue eyes narrowed, and he felt they'd gotten somewhere. "I will ask again, are you sorry? Will you be on time from now on?" 

She opened her mouth to respond, but, before she could, Kirkland pulled his fingers from her, yanking her upright. 

"You know, I doubt you have anything beneficial to tell me, after all." As he pulled her around the desk, her entire being burned with indignation. 

" _That's not fair!_ " He pushed her down onto her knees. 

"My dear, you have been late every day, you don't have any regard for the rules. And," he forced her down and into that little space underneath his desk before he sat down, "I'm quite aware you're a liar." 

Again, not waiting for a response, he unzipped his pants and parted his legs around her head. She got out a brief "daddy--" before he pushed his cock past her lips. Then he let go of her head. "Suck," he ordered. "In case you were too dense to understand." And he forced her head down once so that she took his whole length, spasming briefly around it. Then he let go of her hair. "Until I finish. If you do it well, that will be the end of your punishment." 

Amy's head between his legs, dutifully bobbing up and down, her tongue twisting and flickering, Kirkland sighed. And then he got out the quiz's he'd assigned on the readings, setting in to grade them. _Well_ , he thought to himself, _at least having a student around my cock makes this more bearable_. He got through a handful of quizzes before there was a knock. 

Kirkland sensed the presence before it entered. Amy froze, and he pushed in closer to the desk so she was better hidden, and she tenetively continued sucking. 

Normally, Kirkland was not one to hide any of his affairs. He was quite proud of his reputation, but-- 

"Good evening, mon chèr!" Francis Bonnefoy was not a demon. He was the _only_ being at the school that was _not_ a demon. "I saw you forgot your favorite pen." 

Kirkland leaned carefully over his desk. _What right does he have to notice something as trivial as which pen I prefer?!_

"Yes, quite. Set it down. That's all." 

"You seem a touch flustered," Bonnefoy, quite litterally, glowed. 

"I..." He thought about the student, and her lips around him. About her head moving up and down his length, her tongue teasing the head of his cock. About the saliva that ran down her chin from the movement, and the way he would grab her head and cum down her throat. "...am no such thing." 

"Ah, I'll leave you be then, ta-ta!" And the angel vanished. Seeming to take all the light from the room.

Kirkland let out a breath. "Bloody irritating..."

He reached down to pat Amy's head. "Good girl, being quiet." 

In recognition of her solidarity for that moment, Kirkland let her off a bit earlier than he'd planned, still holding onto one of her little horns to forced her head toward when he came, so that she choked on his cum. Coughing, he let her pull herself from him, his cum dripping down her chin and onto her bare chest as she tried to wipe her mouth clean, licking her fingers. 

He enjoyed the sight, zipping up his pants. And when she crawled out from under his desk, he gave her a level, and stern of course, glare. "Do not be late again." 

...

"He _fucked_ you?" Matthew's eyes were wide. 

"Uh, is that what I said? No. I mean, kinda but like--" 

"I've been trying to get him to fuck _me_ for _months_!" Matthew protested, falling back onto the beanbag chair on the floor of the room he shared with Amy. 

"Okay? Just be late, apparently." Amy scowled, tossing her uniform clothes in the wash.

"I-- ugh, that would take effort. Do you know I'm normally 20 minutes early? I don't get it. _You_ piss him off! _I've_ been flirting with him!" Matthew draped an arm dramatically over his eyes. 

"Yea' I don't think he likes me any better _now_ tbh." Amy sat down on Matthew's stomach. "Maybe you want it too much?" 

"Maybe I'm not being direct enough..." 

Amy snorted. "Okay, whatever." She straddled his hips. "Ya know, bro, he didn't _actaully_ fuck me." 

Matthew groaned. "Maybe I'm too depressed." 

"Bullshit, I'm way hotter than our English professor." She took ahold of his horns, which, despite their being the same age, were bigger than hers. "You cannot leave your best friend hanging." 

"Fine." He sat up, catching her in his arms. "Fine! Just use me." Matthew sighed. "Like Arthur won't." 


	2. Gilbert Bielschmidt

II-- Gilbert Beilschmidt. Half demon. Second-Year. 22

At precisely 4:45, five minutes before class let out for the day, Gilbert had answered a quite rhetorical question by standing up and explaining, without missing a beat, that the next exam wasn't one that needed to be attended if you had figured out the way the points worked in the class. He, apparently, had done the math on it. And it would, he had said, making eye contact with Kirkland, hold up when the other students replicated his findings. 

That, in of itself, was not the worst thing a student could do. He was right, after all. But, as this student seemed to enjoy doing, he pushed it. Beyond making what could be generously called a simple observation, he went on to tell Kirkland that _if you want to plan pointless things into your schedule that waste your student's time, you should reconsider your position._

Kirkland asked him to stay after class. Which he did, his rigid body never moving, and those crimson eyes burning into his professor the entire time. _He has the looks of a demon down._ If he was full blooded, Kirkland was sure he'd be something to behold. But it seemed, instead, his status between left him compensating. 

"Mr. Beilschmidt," Kirkland began, but, before he could even scold the student, Gilbert stood abruptly upright, blading his stance as though for a fight. 

"Nothing I said was untrue. You don't scare me." Gilbert forced the words forward, like projectiles. 

Kirkland rubbed his eyes a moment. "... I don't want any of my students to _fear_ me, as much as I'm asking for a basic level of classroom decorum. And that includes respect." 

"I'm not apologizing." Gilbert's hair was already rising as he gathered his powers, his horns, curling behind his head, now visible. 

"We do not fight in the classroom, young man," Kirkland scolded, not having moved. "You need to relax before I force you to." 

" _Force_ me too?" Gilbert smirked, again, a fantastic expression for a demon, as if he'd been practicing. "No. I'm leaving now." 

When his student did attempt to leave without listening, Kirkland flicked his wrist and Gilbert was tripped. In the moment he was falling, with a short cry of surprise, Gilbert aimed toward Kirkland and released a blade made from his power. It missed Kirkland. It did hit his desk. 

"Well. Now you're going to have to be in for it, Mr. Beilschmidt." Kirkland flicked his wrists again, fingers moving as if weaving a cat's cradle from the air around them. Invisible strings caught Gilbert: they bound his legs together, calf to thigh, pulled them taunt and off the ground; they wrapped around his wrists and pulled his arms behind his body; they wrapped around his neck and his shoulders to hold him imobile. "That was very immature of you to..." 

Despite his controlled expression. The forced set of his mouth and eyebrows, Kirkland could see it in his eyes: genuine panic. With a sigh, he crouched down in front of the student he'd bound up. 

"Now, what is that, my dear? Do you really think you're going to get your way with an appeal in pathos? It's a nice try, but I'm not so easy to manipulate," Kirkland reached out to stroke his cheek. "You can pretend all you would like, but I won't take pity on you because you're a half-blood, as if that matters in the slightest. In my class, every demon is equal, and that does also mean in terms of punishment."

The look in Gilbert's eyes hardened into determination. Kirkland didn't want to be arrogant and assume that glimmer of appreciation was really present alongside it. 

"Heh..." Gilbert even smirked again. "I guess no one was exaggerating your abilities, Prof." 

"You really don't have the foggiest." Kirkland took Gilbert's face in both his hands. "About your punishment. I was simply going to talk to you before you decided to cut my desk in half. Now you've broken a number of rules. You'll have to be throughly reprimanded." 

Shaking his head, Kirkland began unbuttoning the neatly tucked in uniform shirt Gilbert was wearing. "And I know this is your first infraction. But I like to make a strong first impression in my classroom." Really, it was a shame that such a model student would so doubt Kirkland's faith in his mixed blood that he was ready snap in a moment to prove himself. 

Gilbert's eyes tried to follow the hands unbuttoning his shirt, but his chin was jerked up and he couldn't. "Ah-- those rumors--"

"Also not exaggerated." Kirkland pulled Gilbert's shirt from where it was tucked into his pants. The young man had a nice body: toned muscle under dead white skin. Taking a moment, Kirkland leaned in to tease Gilbert's nipples stiff between thumb and index finger. He felt his student struggling in the way his body trembled against the invisible worse holding him aloft. 

"Now, don't bother with that. You've earned this punishment." 

Gilbert scoffed. "I'm not really a _relaxed_ kind of guy, Prof." 

Kirkland pinched one of those nipples tightly. "Another thing. You are in this position, in part, because of your disrespect. Find a title other than 'prof.'" 

While he gave that some thought, Kirkland undid the belt at his waist, pulling down his plaid uniform pants as far as they could go with the positioning of his bent legs. Then he pulled down his underwear, rolling the tight boxer shorts down his toned thighs. To his surprise, for Gilbert's attitude, the young man was hard. Kirkland admired the erection a few seconds before reaching out to stroke him. Just before he touched him, Gilbert said, "sir." 

Kirkland paused. Interesting. He ran a finger over his member. Heard Gilbert's breath catch. "Very good." With a deft hand, he ran his fingertips up and down the younger man's cock. 

"How is this _teaching_ me _anything_ , sir?" Gilbert asked through grit teeth. Trying to bite back... Something. 

"Not teaching. Punishing." Kirkland grasped his balls, rolled them against his palm, teased them with his nails. Gilbert failed to keep himself from making a chocked mewl. "Very, very goo--" 

Abruptly, a thought occuring to him, Kirkland straightened up and walked to the door. Locked it. 

"Stupid angel..." He muttered. 

"What was that?" Gilbert called, and was ignored. 

Turning to return to his prey, Kirkland took a moment to-- instead of responding to the question, which would only annoy him-- take in the sight of Gilbert. Hanging from nothing, taunt and exposed, his cheeks flushed, and his cock already dripping. A calming sight. 

"Now. Let's be serious." Kirkland returned to his crouched position before the student. He took Gilbert's cock in both hand, and massaged it. Pinched the head of it, carved red lines with his nails into the exposed flesh of his inner thighs. The last action really seemed to set Gilbert off. Noticing that, Kirkland left the cock in one hand for the occasional squeeze, using his other to score those lines into his sides and chest. 

"Agh, s-sir--" a trial of saliva leaked from the corner of Gilbert's mouth, and he couldn't wipe it away. At this point, the trembling of his body was not from struggling. "Sir!" 

"Now, what kind of a punishment would this be if you enjoyed it that much?" With a snap of his fingers, another invisible strand wrapped just tight enough around the base of Gilbert's cock, and Kirkland stood up. 

Gilbert groaned. "Are you going to leave me here, sir?" 

"No. I wouldn't leave a student vulnerable like this without supervision." Kirkland walked around behind Gilbert, and pulled him up, letting him fall a bit forward in his suspension, so that his ass was at the right height. 

"Sir--" 

Another snap-- they were for show, really-- and Gilbert's ass cheeks were spread open as if by invisible hands, so that he was exposed to the air. 

"You're doing well." Kirkland told him, pausing to take a picture of the bound student with his phone, which Gilbert couldn't see. 

"At least do _something_!" Gilbert growled from below him, where he'd been left untouched for a minute. 

"You're normally so patient." Kirkland reprimanded him, putting the phone back in his vest pocket. "You can endure. You will." 

He placed a finger over Gilbert's tight little asshole, felt the warmth of flesh, and gently pressed in. Pressed in until he opened, until he could get inside. Pressed past the resistance and the shuddering breath of the student to the base of his index finger. "But you have been such a good student to this point." Kirkland unceremoniously pulled the finger free. And he then took his time going over his desk, now broken-- a bother-- and retrieving a glass bottle of lubrication. A gift from another professor, light purple and shimmering in the fading light from the windows, it was specifically made for his naughty students. It lent a chill to the ease of passage, and heightened sensitivity. 

When he returned, Gilbert was cursing him. "Now. Cut that out. Or I'll have to regret my kindness here." Kirkland coated two fingers, and pressed them into Gilbert's ass. If he had been able to arch back, he would have done so. 

"Mmmmmnnnnnnnhhh...." Gilbert bit his lower lip, his skin flushed across his body, damp with sweat. 

Inside of his student, Kirkland moved in and out, as if playing a violin with his fingers as the bow. And then, perhaps a touch impatient himself, he unzipped his own trousers. 

"Si-sir, are you going to--" 

"Fuck you, yes." The head of Kirkland's cock met Gilbert's asshole. 

"Sir--" 

He watched Gilbert's ass expand around his cock, felt the tightness of him...

"Sir-- _fuck_ \--" 

...and pushed forward with ease. He put his hands on Gilbert's hips, which must have been cramping by this point. "Apologize." 

"I-- I didn't mean to hit the desk--" Arthur thrust once, listened with satisfaction to Gilbert's sharp, helpless cry. 

"Disrupt class, or--" Another thrust, harder this time. 

"-- disrespect... Fuck is this fucking lube weird?!" 

Kirkland shook his head. "So close. And I was considering letting you cum earlier." 

"Wait, sir, I was getting to--" 

Kirkland reached around and forced three fingers into Gilbert's mouth, so that his speech became garbled. Then, bending a bit over him, Kirkland thrust in earnest. He felt Gilbert's tongue thrash against his fingers, saliva trailing down his lips and dripping onto the classroom floor, his poor erect cock trembling each time Kirkland pushed back into him, unable to release. Knowing Gilbert was already past what his limit was, Kirkland didn't drag the punishment out for too long before digging his fingers into Gilbert's hip and filling him, with hardly a sound. 

Pulling out, he snapped again, and allowed Gilbert to release with a shout. "There. That's all for today. Next time, we control our powers, and have a bit of confidence in our professors, yes?" 

Gilbert was panting. He swallowed once. Took a deep breath. And then nodded. 

"Good. You're free to go." Kirkland dropped Gilbert to the ground, his student shakily standing, buttoning back up his pants and shirt. 

... And now to fix a desk. Kirkland may have been the second most powerful demon in the school but he had never dabbled in… _ugh_. 

Didn't angels know how to heal things...?

…

"He _fucked_ you?!" Matthew sat up, distrupting both Amy and Gil, who had been using him as a pillow upon which to play Mario Kart.

Gil, now tossed against Amy, hardly glanced over. "Uh, yeah, that's what I said." 

"I don't get it!!" Matthew frowned. "You _broke_ his _desk_! Why would he--" 

"It's a _punishment_ , Mattie. This is so easy: just be a bad student." Amy, now that she was next to Gil, tried to hit his controler from his hands while playing her own with one. 

"Fine. Fine! If that's what I _have_ to do." Matthew sighed. He really preferred to go unacknowledged in class. 

"I don't get why you're caught up on him anyway, Matt-- don't you fucking bite me with your little fangs, Amy, I'll _kill_ you-- our English Prof isn't even hot. Not like that angel Prof-- _AMY_!!" Gil and Amy started fighting. 

Matthew stared dreamily into the distance., ignoring the other two and their opinions. "Oh, one day..." He told himself. "One day..." 


	3. The Vargas Twins

III-- The Vargas Twins. Demons/special case. Fourth-Years. 24. 

Prof. Kirkland sighed, leaning back on his new and slightly larger desk, to which Francis had added several unecesary frescos. At this rate, he was going to be late to the faculty meeting. And although he didn't particularly enjoy meetings, he did enjoy being a contrareian. 

"Just tell me it was your brother, and we can go," he reiterated to one Lovino Vargas, twin brother to the deceptively cheerful Feliciano Vargas. 

What he received in response was a scowl. "I told you. I'm not a fucking snitch. I'm not telling you a damn thing." 

"We both know it was your brother, Lovino," Kirkland couldn't help but be a touch exasperated by the young man's disrespectful language. 

A scoff. "If you 'know', then that's your fucking perogative. Why do I have to tell you?" 

Loyalty was not a particularly admirable trait in a demon. But these boys were a special case: their demon powers were split evenly down the middle. They were strongest when touching. 

"All right, then." Kirkland resigned himself to being late for his meeting. "Bring your brother back into the room. And lock the door for me when you return." 

Lovino glared. "You know your bullshit punishments don't work on Feli, pervert." 

Kirkland waved a hand. "You both want to take responsibility. You're both being punished. I think that will make things far more effective." 

"Ugh." Lovino want to the door and yanked it open. "Get back in here." He called into the hallway, and was soon joined by a smiling duplicate. "Now we're both in trouble." He grumbled to Feliciano, who gave him a sympathetic pouty look. 

"Sorry, brother!" 

"Don't fucking worry about it." Lovino did not lock the door, much to Kirkland's irritation, as he then had to do it himself.

"You two boys have been accused of breaking into a professor's office, stealing, and now lying about your--" He clicked the lock shut. "--trespasses." 

Lovino had the nerve to roll his eyes. "I'm not fucking scared of you, or your punishments." He nudged his brother. "Cause we talk to Prof. Carriedo. And he told us--" 

"He. Is. Not. Your. Advisor." Perhaps, to any other demon teaching, the name of the most powerful amoung them would have garnered a bit more hesitation. It was the wrong name to drop around Kirkland, who had to take a moment to calm himself. "I am the one who determines how you are reprimanded. And, today, you two will be reprimanded as one, as you have chosen to stand as one. Do not mention other teachers again." 

Kirkland returned to his desk and considered the twins before him. 

"So do you want our clothes off?" Feliciano asked cheerfully. He was a brilliant demon in the sense that he was able to maintain a very bright façade, and seemed to delight in manipulation, using his cute face and demeanor to get away with things. Unfortunately for him, Kikrland had caught on to that rather quickly, and this was not his first punishment. It was, however, Lovino's. 

"Yes, you can start there." Kirkland again checked his watch. Perhaps, he thought to himself, he could speed this up... 

"Pervert." Lovino repeated under his breath, as Feliciano stripped down without much hesitation, setting his clothes on the top of a desk. 

"Oh, I don't plan on being the active one today," Kirkland responded dissmissively. 

He observed with only a flicker of interest that where Feliciano shaved his body, Lovino did not, the curls a shade darker than his auburn hair. They were dusted across his cheek, legs, and arms. And, of course, between his legs. When Kirkland's eyes found their way back up to his eyes, Lovino was flushed. 

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" he demanded. "You just want to stare at us?" 

"No. You two have shown that you would prefer to be known by the actions of the other. So you will be punishing each other that way." 

Lovino's eyes widened, and even Feliciano looked surprised. The latter opened his mouth to protest when Kirkland locked eyes with him. 

" **Kiss your brother.** " On a lesser demon, especially a young one, the compulsion was easy. Feliciano blinked a few time before he turned to Lovino and grabbed his wrist. 

"Oh, come on--" Lovino began before he was pulled against his twin, Feliciano messily meeting his lips. Kirkland leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms, and enjoying the look of discomfort on Lovino's face as Feliciano's tongue flicked out and probed between his lips. 

Though, after a moment of this, Lovino hesitantly kissed back, his body relaxing only slightly. Feliciano took the chance to bite Lovino's lip, slithering his tongue into his mouth as soon as he had a chance to. Then Lovino stiffened up again, but it was too late for that, and Feliciano cupped the back of his head, exploring his mouth with a force that did match his usual calm attitude. 

At that point, the initial compulsion was wearing off against their combined powers, and Kirkland waved one hand, adding another, " **touch him**." 

Feliciano's hand obediently found its way between Lovino's legs, fondling his cock and balls with a clumsiness. Lovino stumbled slightly back, but Feliciano held onto him, groping him harder. A number of sounds, muffled by the kissing, came from the indignant twin, and, without a compulsion to do it, Feliciano pinned Lovino to the wall so he couldn't struggle away. 

Breaking from the kiss, Feliciano rained more kisses down on his neck and shoulders, licking and biting until Lovino was a bright red. "He didn't tell you to--" 

Again, Feliciano kissed him, returning a tongue to his mouth, moving it across his teeth. They were both hard. Kirkland raised a brow. _Well_ , he thought, _they certiantly are going faster than I anticipated._ Andwith less resistance to it all. That was almost a shame, though, as they _were_ being punished. 

So he interviened again, taking his bottle of lube over to the twins and pressing it into Lovino's hand. " **Prepare yourself**." 

Lovino's resistance to the compulsion was short lived-- he was clearly distracted by Feliciano-- and he obediently coated his fingers, reaching back to finger himself. As he pressed a finger up his ass, Kirkland tapped Feliciano's shoulder. " **On your knees**." And he didn't need to command further than that. Once on his knees in front of his brother, Feliciano leaned forward to take his cock between his lips, gently sucking the head. 

"Fuck..." Lovino moaned, up to a second finger. He grit his teeth. "Fuck this... Fuck _you_..." 

"Not quite." Kirkland responded, a wisp of a grin touching his lips. 

Feliciano's head bobbed, and he nuzzled his nose for a moment into Lovino's curls, the full shaft down his throat. Lovino's fee hand grasped his hair. "B-bastard, s-stop-- you're supposed to _fight_ his--- mmmmpphh--" Kirkland had leaned forward to close his mouth with a gentle firmness. 

"Enough of that now, you do talk too much. **Get down on your hands and knees, raise your ass up so he can fuck you.** " And then Kirkland leaned back again, his arms behind his back, and observed his student do just that. He was a rather adorable sight like that, flushed and shining with sweat, still muttering curses but submissive nonetheless. 

" **Fuck him.** " Kirkland told Feliciano, and then, confident in what would follow, he returned to his desk to get his things ready for the meeting he was going to be late to. 

In his periphery, Feliciano took Lovino's hips and positioned his cock so that he slid easily into his twin. Lovino moaned. Once inside of him, Feliciano ran his hands down Lovino's back, along his sides, and gently moved a bit out before sinking back in. He did this again, and then again, moving a bit further out with each thrust until he was rocking Lovino back and forth in at a steady pace. Fucking Lovino far past where the compulsion had worn off. 

" _You're_ not supposed to fucking _like_ this!" Lovino shouted at his twin, who kissed his shoulders. 

"Relax, brother! I don't want hurt you! If we _have_ to, I want you to feel good~" Feliciano leaned over his twin, massaging his nipples, squeezing his cock. 

Lovino, at this point, was under no further compulsion himself to stay on his knees, but he didn't pull back, didn't swear at Feliciano in earnest, until the sweeter twin had cum inside of him with a cute little mewl. Kirkland gave his watch an annoyed second glance as Lovino shouted at Feliciano, both naked and red. Their stamina had been better than he'd hoped for. 

"Dress yourselves, boys, you're free to go," he said with half the attention he'd paid them at the start of all this. 

He was sure that Lovino hurled some last insult at his back as he unlocked the door, but, whatever it was, he did not catch it. 

...

"But _he_ didn't fuck you?" Matthew asked, his chin resting in his hand. He was helping the Vargas twins with their homework, Amy having abandoned him to go out drinking with Gil and Anya. 

"He fucked us _over_ ," Lovino replied, greatly annoyed by the whole thing. "And he's going to regret it." 

"Mmmm." Matthew didn't care so much about that part. He was irritated that Kirkland hadn't seemed to pay him one cent of erotic attention. _Well done, Matthew_ was the only assurance he'd gotten that Prof. Kirkland even knew his name! 

"Lovi, calm down!" Feliciano was saying, and Lovino was scowling. 

Matthew sighed. What was the pattern here? If it was punishment then why wasn't he being punished? He'd tried being late. He's tried _skipping_ even. He'd spoken during lectures, and Amy-- who he was talking to, was scolded. What? Was he just invisible? He didn't _want_ to get away with things. 

... Maybe he just had to try a bit harder. 


End file.
